Revelation Of Regeneration
by StatickMagick
Summary: The story of a normal girl meeting an extraordinary man, who, unbeknowns to her, is about to change in front of her eyes. Seems like The Doctor's got his work cut out.


_All I could see was silver. Silver metal. Metal bodies clambering over me. Me about to die. These bodies were writhing and squirming and trying to make me stay still, but I refused to give in. I was helpless, I needed somebody._

I raised my left hand in despair out of my bed sheets.

"Doctor!" I cried uncontrollably. A force inside of me made me scream a name which meant nothing to me. I heard a sigh near my head. Suddenly, bulky yet soft fingers entwined slowly with mine.

"It's alright Ali, I'm here." A slightly high masculine voice replied. I squinted against the bitter morning sunlight pouring through my window.

"Who are you?" I tried to speak, but only a faint whisper came out. The light in the room dimmed and I gradually opened my eyes to see a man wearing a black leather jacket, a plain dark green jumper underneath and dark trousers perched on the side of my bed, his arm outstretched in front of me, still holding my left hand.

"I'm the Doctor, just as you ordered." He grinned, a great smile beaming across his face.

"Oh, I guess my mum must've let you in. Well, you see, the problem is, my spine's been playing me up…" The man sighed and interrupted me.

"No, no, no. I'm not that kind of Doctor." He waved with his free left hand. "See any stethoscope? Don't think so, sorry."

"What kind of Doctor are you then?" I questioned. It only just occurred to me that a stranger was holding my hand, but some urge deep inside me wanted to hold onto him. I didn't even know who he was, but I felt some kind of strong connection with him which persuaded me to keep grasping his hand.

"I'm just the Doctor. At your service." He beamed yet again. He gripped tighter in between my fingers playfully.

"Wait, er, hold on, are you the man in my dream?" It seemed a stupid question, he could hardly see into my dreams, it must have been impossible for anyone to do that.

"No. He had longer and spikier hair. I'm an egg-head practically." He giggled. I was stumped. So he could see into my dreams. I screwed up my forehead in confusion.

"Who, what where those metal things then?" I glanced around the room just in case they were surrounding me yet again. The Doctor stared deep into my eyes to comfort me.

"Cybermen." He sighed. My eyes widened in shock.

"What are Cybermen?" I asked inquisitively.

"An old foe of mine. From the planet Mondas. I'll sort them out if they come by again."

He reassured me as if they weren't going to harm me again. Like they had just disappeared off the face of the Earth, or Mondas, where ever they came from.

I closed my eyes and sighed, gathering my thoughts. I leant my head against his chest as he placed his arm around me. I squinted my closed eyes as my ears picked up an uncommon sound. Two heart beats came from his chest. I dismissed my thoughts with a shake of my head that he had two hearts. I was sure it was just my hand against his chest picking up both my thumb's pulse and his heart's pulse. I squinted yet again. It couldn't be. But how did he know so much about an alien life form, and not be an alien himself? Surely not, I thought. He must be an alienologist, or whatever they called people who studied aliens. Limnologist echoed in my mind. Stupid Science lessons, I thought. Where would I need words like that? Right now, my conscience whispered to me, ask him.

I gradually opened my eyes to a close view of his dark green jumper and a glimpse of his black leather jacket, which comforted me. He can't be an alien, he's perfectly human. I jolted my head upwards to stare into his eyes for yet more comfort, but a different shade iris in his eyes stared back at me. I widened my eyes in disbelief. His hair was longer and spikier, yet still the same colour. If he is an alien, maybe he wanted longer hair and made it happen with his magical powers, I thought. But I realised his cheeks were thinner, his eyes were wider, his skin was sleeker, yet blotched with freckles around his nose and a lesser smile stretched across his face. He was a totally different man, but in the same clothes.

"What, the?" I croaked, dumbfounded by his automatic change in appearance.

"Yes, darling, what's the problem?" Even his voice was different, which was to be expected, considering he just morphed somehow into another person.

"Your, your, your…" I waved my free right hand in a gesture trying to show that he had changed, but I was hopeless at hints.

"Spit it out, love, we ain't got all day. I gotta get back to my time machine any minute now. I tell you, it's been stuck out in the middle of Frank Road, brazen as you like, and nobody's noticed it! Although, I should be lucky, been as it's a '60s police telephone box…"

"What's happened to you? You're, you're all different. You're not the guy who was sat here a minute ago. Where did he go, eh?" I blurted out which made him shudder. He glanced down at his chest, patting his jumper and leather jacket.

"Oh." He sighed dismissively. "Didn't notice that." He frantically felt around his clothes, his hair and his trousers. "Ooh, that's new. Sideburns. Ooh."

"How can't you notice it? How can you just dismiss the fact that you've changed your whole body into an entirely new one? How can you ignore that?" I panicked.

"It just happens with people like me, we just change without notice. It can't be helped, it just, sorta, happens."

"But you didn't notice it?" I sighed.

"No. It just sorta blends in. We only notice it when we look in a mirror. Like you, you only notice you're having a bad hair day when you look in a mirror." He giggled.

"But that's weird. Changing into an entirely new person. How do you do it?" I stared once again deep into his eyes caringly.

"My people call it a regeneration." He fidgeted, preparing to tell a long story, until I interrupted.

"Hang on a tick, 'your people'? Who exactly are you?" I asked curiously.

"This ain't gonna be easy, you know. Some people don't believe me when I tell them." His voice deepened sympathetically.

"I will, trust me."

"If you say so. I'm a Time Lord, the last Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey, constellation Kasterbourus." He raised his head in pride.

"How come you're the last of the Time Lords?"

"My people died in an epic battle with another race, the Daleks. Mutant robots. That answer your question?" He sighed.

"How come you sound like you're Scottish?" He raised our clasped hands in the air playfully. It was strange to think that I was still clinging on to this alien man, yet I still felt the urge to hold onto him for my life. I felt I had to.

"Lots of planets have a Scotland." He hunched his back glumly. I giggled uncontrollably, it's not often some alien tells you their planet has a Scotland. It's not often you meet some alien from another planet either.


End file.
